Fascination
by Out of Custody
Summary: Drabble series with Hermione and Severus - because it's Valentine's Day - Rating for safety


**So, I thought I'd do something extracurricular for Valentine's Day, since it is such a special day and my fingers have been itching to get rid of all the ideas in my head that are blocking the rest of my work - so here we go. **

**I do not own any of the HP-characters, am not making money and am thinking that this disclaimer is really too much of a hassle, since everyone knows that already. **

**ENJOY!**

* * *

**..FASCINATION..**

* * *

"No, no, please no." He was bereft when he found her at the Gate, going down on his knees he took her quivering hands, everything about her was quivering – shaking even. Tears were running down her cheeks.

"Please tell me you didn't."

She only shook her head, hiccupping as she gathered her breath. "I ha-had to.", she said through her tears, her voice was breaking, her wand lying on the ground next to her, she shook even harder when he helplessly stared up at her. "I couldn't-couldn't sa-sacrifice them." She continued, but he needed to know no more.

Silently he gathered her in his arms, standing, calling her wand to his hands, he cradled her, guiding her up to the castle.

She'd done the unthinkable to protect the one's she loved.

* * *

"You're not allowed to do that.", he growled.

She did not stop. Instead as she looked up from her book, she continued the action, staring at him with her delicious amber eyes.

"Do what?", she asked with an innocence he could not define to be genuine or not.

"That!", he declared, waving his hand in her direction – she still continued, slowly arching an eyebrow; a movement she'd copied from him. "This infernal… leg kicking!"

She slowed the kicking of her legs, turning her head to look at her appendages and then turning it back at him, her face blank – clearly she was clueless. "And why?"

Because he could see the seam of her Stay Ups when the leg facing him went up – did she really not notice that her skirt equally went up?

"It is disturbing my peace.", he snarled instead – turning back to read his journal.

She did not take up the kicking.

* * *

She shook her head. "No, we would have never truly worked out."

_Ah?_ He raised an eyebrow, mute in his recovery. She smirked, changing his bandages meticulously and saying nothing for a while.

"I am relatively sure you have read about Babaille's Theorem about the patronus representing the character of the person."

He nodded, of course he had. She smiled, happy to know that her assumptions were correct – she was getting better at judging him every day.

"Well, most people know that mine is an Otter… just very few know that his is a Jack Russel Terrier."

His brows furrowed, seeking the connection – she smiled benignly, finishing his bandages apparently oblivious to the fact that she was letting him hang there suspended in the air. Just before she left his room through the door did she turn her head catching his eye for the first time in months.

"Jack Russel Terriers are known for hunting down Otters."

He never raised the subject of Ronald Weasley again afterwards.

* * *

"You're lighting them?"

He watched her head snap up, the candles erupted, lighting up the room, the glow dimming when she realized who it was.

"Wandless?", he continued. And blind?

She nodded. "I can feel the potential for fire and follow it. It's as if the candles are calling me to light them – I just give the spark."

For the first time in his life he in awe. Elementals _were_ rare and she was a self-study… a very proficient one.

* * *

"YES GOD DAMN IT I AM A WHORE TO KNOWLEDGE!" she yelled.

The great hall quieted quickly, all eyes glued to her form as she stood, bent over The Chosen One and His Loyal Sidekick, barely allowing them to bend back any further without breaking their spines – if they had ever had some to begin with.

He was enjoying the way her eyes lit up dangerously and the way her magic started to crackle around her, tangible, visible – it never failed to make him hot.

"_I_ am the reason you two are still alive thanks to that knowledge; so no you do not have the right to judge me when I tap on a new source of intelligence! But if you think what you know now is sufficient then _please_ go on and have your tests today!"

Their eyes widened when she mentioned a test they had apparently forgotten. She would of course, under normal circumstances, have allowed them a peek of her notes but they'd riled her up on a bad day – no looking for them.

* * *

"Oh god."

Potter, for once, shared his mortification. He stared, all decorum forgotten when the gigantic reptile emerged from the ground, making its way unerring towards the Gryffindor table.

She lost not a word as she mounted it.

Mounted it! "Miss Granger get down here this very instant! What do you think you are doing you stupid bint!"

She glared at him. _Glared! At him!_ But he could see that by now Hermione Granger as they knew her was gone, replaced by the revengeful spirit they had called, replaced by the one ghost they had hoped to be able to tame and control – he'd told them not to trifle with such things, he had known something like this would happen.

"Fetch.", she hissed, eyes still stuck on him as the Snake slithered forth, Hermione riding easily on it.

Snape watched horrified as the Gryffindor princess rode the Giant Beast. Potter and Weasley had gone into catharsis – he himself was not far from it.

What had they done?

* * *

Fred and George stared.

Harry stared.

Ginny stared.

Krum stared.

Ron had passed out.

"GOAL!" she yelled gleefully, whizzing over the field in a neck-breaking speed, her hair coming lose from the knot in her neck, her skirt dancing over her thighs.

"YOU CHEATED!", he yelled back, frustrated rising on his broom again – the witch stuck out her tongue.

"DID NOT!", she replied. "IT'S CALLED FEIGNING! A GENTLEMAN SHOWED IT TO ME!"

He guffawed. "PREPARE TO MEET YOUR FATE THEN! LAST ROUND IT IS AND WE'RE UP EVEN!"

He did not know when it happened – or how, but the next moment his backside hurt. He must have fallen. Harry glanced around. At least he was not the only one who felt the need to sit down as Hermione raced Professor Snape over the Quidditch Field.

So much to 'Their bookworm despised Quidditch'.

* * *

"What happened?", he asked silently, taking in her altered appearance.

Sadly she lowered her eyes, knowing what he was getting at. It was still all new to her but it had had to be done.

"It was singed.", she explained, fingering her, now, shoulder-length hair which had been long and wavy just yesterday. He arched an eyebrow – she returned the gesture without hesitation. "What? You think just because Neville is no longer part of your classes your until now preferred Slytherins are any better at not harming their partners unintentionally?"

He cringed. She shrugged.

"It's not that bad. It could have been my head."

Exactly, and that was what worried him.

* * *

Again she had escaped.

He sighed, carefully sitting down on the mattress she had conjured herself. Of course no one would look in the restricted section – students did not come here since the war.

She, however, knew this and used it to her advantage. Students not coming here meant professors not coming here either. The whole section had been deserted for six months by now and she was its only guest.

Slowly he took off his coat, transferring it into another blanket before he got rid of his shoes and lay down next to her. Even in her sleep she made space for him, mumbling incoherently as he placed himself next to her.

Wordlessly he looked at her. Dark circles were adorning her otherwise pale face, her hair was everywhere and her soft lips were slightly opened. Watching her still, he drew the blanket around him, turning towards her.

He only ever found sleep by her side, no matter where she was.

* * *

She blocked him.

His eyebrow rose. She never did this – never once did she interfere with his grading, but this time her brown-feathered quill was blocking his white-feathered one.

"Excuse me…", he started, but her quill did not stray.

"Your assistant already marked those.", she intoned carefully, "I agree that he is not _yet_ the most competent of assistants, but read through his comments first before you deface a correction _and_ your apprentice."

She had a point there…

* * *

He could not help rolling his eyes when her hand went up.

"Ah, yes Miss Granger has the answers to everything.", he drawled acidly. "Why, Miss Granger, not apply your oversized-underworked brain for something useful like… the question of life?"

"42.", she answered, not losing a heartbeat.

* * *

"GetitoffGetitoffGetitoffGeti toff!"

He had a hard time not smiling. Really.

Ronald Weasley running through the Potion's Classroom arms flailing up in the air suffering from a serious case of Hysteria Potion with a leectopus clinging to his cheek was just too good to go by. Plus Harry Potter was making futile grabs for him.

Calmly he watched the third part of the trio.

"Petrificus."

Weasley stopped his running mid-step. Reaching out disinterested and without taking her eyes from the book in front of her, she took hold of the leectopus, gently tickling it until it let go of the cheek of the red-head, handing it back to him when it had rolled back into his ball-like-state.

"Stop being such a princess about this, Ron." She said, stirring her cauldron.

He smirked. There were days when she was more than tolerable.

* * *

She looked ridiculously good in most things she wore.

Even in this stupid Weasley jumper with her hair tied up in a neat bun, a band wrapped around her head thirties-style, knot in the front.

He had liked her silken, grass-green dress the best. The whole Yule Ball he had been unable to tear his eyes aware from her supine form sheathed in that sin of a dress, accentuating curves and yet leaving things to be imagined.

But perhaps, he mused as she looked her up and down, perhaps this jumper and the head-band would take the icing of the cake.

"Are you wearing knickers?" he asked without preamble. She shook her head.

Icing with a cherry.

* * *

"You like him, don't you?", he whispered silently – she blushed prettily, averting her eyes.

"Actually yes. I may even say I am quite in love with him."

He sighed. He had known this would happen – sooner or later these things always happened, it was just the way it was. The only thing left for him to do now was to decide how to act.

Well, he was a man… he'd face it like a man.

Carefully he took her hand in his, playing with her fingers. "Fine, we can take him in."

She actually squealed when she hugged him. Teddy Lupin had a new home.

* * *

People said hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

But as he watched the curly-haired witch tear through the masses of Death Eaters around her, her eyes gleaming dangerously, the wand she'd won slaying all those around her, the thought struck his mind that people had never seen her.

Her feet were barely touching the ground as she ducked, turned, whirled, danced almost over the battlefield, slowly nearing the one point she knew she wanted to get. The one point he wished her to stay away from.

Helplessly he watched at her side as her friends went down around her, watched as she finally stood opposite the one pair that had caused the hurt now oozing out of her, mixed with rage and insurmountable power.

If hell had no fury like a woman scorned, it sure had never seen Hermione Granger on the path of vengeance.

* * *

**There you go, I hope it was a nice little something for your SH-Valentine's, and of course I wish you love (and cookies) on this wonderful day. **

**(Reviews would be nice ;p)**


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